I'm Not Hurt
by HailHydra001
Summary: Peter is injured but won't fess up to his dad (Tony). What happens when he finds out?


'Man, you need to get that checked out. Shall I call Mr. Stark?' Ned asked Peter as they stood in the grimy bathrooms of their school. It was lunch and Peter were showing Ned an injury he had gained from his patrol last night. 'How have you not fainted? That's… That's just horrible.'

'Try sore.' Peter grimaced.

'I need to call Mr. Stark.' Ned stated, pointing at Peter's stomach. It was completely black and blue and the left side of it, where his ribs were was all bumpy.

'No! Ned. You _can't _call Mr. Stark. He'll never let me go out again.'

'Wait what! Are you telling me you are still going out like this?'

'I have to, Ned. Don't you dare call Mr. Stark. I can handle myself.'

'But, Peter…' Peter held up a hand to silence Ned.

'No! Ned. OK?' Ned nodded. Peter ran a hand lightly down his left sight, wincing. 'It'll heal. I can go out; I can still be Spiderman.' He muttered, more to himself than to Ned. The bell rang out through the school. 'You go onto class I'll be along in a minute.' Ned frowned, leaving reluctantly. He knew he would never be able to convince peter not to go out.

Peter stumbled along the rooftops of Queens as Spiderman. He might be injured but it was his duty to protect non-superheroes. It wasn't even like it hurt that bad. Mr. Stark didn't need to know. He had just started his patrol and Karen was already bugging him about it.

'Peter, if you keep going, I will call Mr. Stark!' The AI reasoned.

'No, you won't' Peter replied, scowling.

'Protocol says that I must.' She warned him.

'Karen, please don't call Mr. Stark.'

'Keep going and I have no choice.' Peter sighed; he couldn't stop. He kept running along the roof, he was readying himself to jump to the next one, when he stopped. Karen was calling Tony.

'Karen, what? No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!' Tony picked up within the fourth ring.

'Why is Karen calling me?' Tony raised an eyeball, staring into Peter's face. But Peter knew that there was worry hidden his eyes. 'Peter, what's wrong? Tell me or I'll ask Karen.'

'Nothing's wrong. Karen… Thought… She thought… I was _going _to… fall of a building. Yeah. Karen thought I was _going to fall of a building_.'

'Karen? What's wrong with Peter?'

'He has four broken ribs and two cracked ribs on the left side. He fell off a roof when he was on patrol and landed on his side on top of a streetlamp, two nights ago.' Karen informed him.

'Two nights ago! _Two Nights ago_! Peter Parker! Stay there, I'm going to get you.'

'Mr. Stark, I'm fine. It's all good here. Don't bother coming.' Peter went to go sit down but the sudden movement hurt. 'Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. It's all good… Ow. Ow. Ow… Here Mr. Stark. There's really no need… Ow. Ow. Ow… For you to come get me Mr. Stark. I'm doing great. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow!'

'No, you're not! I'm coming and you better stay put or _so help me god_! You are in a world of trouble, Peter.'

'Sorry, dad.' Peter rested his head on a vent behind him. 'I-I didn't m-mean t-to. I can handle it. It doesn't hurt that much. I'll be OK, it should heal.'

'Will it now?' Peter whipped around and saw the Tony landing on the roof behind him in the Iron Man suit. Peter immediately regretted moving his head because it sent a sharp, searing pain down his left side. 'Let's have a look, then.' Tony said walking out of the suit and over to Peter. 'I do have a reason for being here, y'know.' Tony walked forward and bent down over Peter. He pressed the spider on his son's suit and moved the loose spandex so he could see the full extent of the injury. 'SHIT! Peter! Why the _fuck _did you not tell me. You were walking round the compound for two days and nobody picked up on this?' Peter grimaced. 'Why didn't you tell me? Peter this looks horrible. We need to get you back to the compound, as soon as possible. You need a doctor. Bruce is visiting, he can look at you.'

'Mr. Stark, I'm fine. I don't need a doctor.' Peter stumbled to his feet. 'Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.'

'You need a doctor, stop calling me Mr. Stark. Try dad more often, or _at least _Tony. I am your legal dad now.'

'Sorry, Mr. Stark. Oh sorry, dad. I don't need a doctor. I'm fine. I can still go on patrol; I can still be Spiderman. Look, dad. I'm fine. It doesn't hurt, not that much. Please, m'good. M'good. M'OK.'

'Peter, trust me.' He looked at his stomach and poked it slightly, Peter gasped followed by a grimace. 'See, you need a doctor. J.A.R.V.I.S tell Bruce to meet us in the medical bay in thirty minutes.'

'Will do, sir.' J.A.R.V.I.S replied.

'No doctor. Look I'm fine. I'm good.' Peter argued weakly.

'You're not yourself. I can't fly you because that's a bad idea it'll hurt you more, we have to walk. C'mon.' Tony walked back into his suit and slung Peter's right arm over his shoulder. 'Let's get moving.' Tony quickly flew them off the roof and landed them on the sidewalk. He was right to assume that flying with Peter would hurt him more because the second he took off Peter burst into a torrent of swear words and ows. 'Watch your language.'

'Seriously? You, _off all people_, are telling me to watch my language. Hypocrite.'

'Even injured you have a sense of humour. You sure you aren't my real son?' Peter smiled.

'Don't make me laugh, it hurts.'

'Sorry. I didn't think about that.'

'It's OK.'

'Have you eaten yet this evening.'

'No. Not really.'

'We need to get food after Bruce has seen you, I know you. You never admit your hungry.' Peter grinned sheepishly.

'Shawarma?' Peter suggested.

'You trying to suck up to me. You're still getting an ear-full after I know you're not going to die.'

'_You're worried_. You are _so worried_. You _love _me.'

'Off course I _love _you, you're my son. I think you _love _me.'

'Do I?'

'You _love _me.'

'Maybe I do.' The outline of the compound was now visible in the distance.

'Oh, you _love _me. Say it.'

'Fine, maybe i do _love _you, you're my dad. Even though you're so not cool.'

'Excuse me, it's not like I'm an accountant or a, I don't know, sales rep. I'm a billionaire tech genius who has his own company. Which is pretty cool.'

'Have you _ever _read a dictionary?'

'Admit it you think I'm cool.'

'Tiny bit.'

'Yes! I'm a cool dad!'

'You are more excited than you should be.'

'I don't know I'm counting this as a full-on win-win situation.'

'Thanks, dad.'

'For what?'

'For trying to help me keep my mind off the pain.'

'It's not working then?' Peter grimaced.

'Not your fault.'

'I will be quoting you on that earlier.'

'You can't quote me to me. Even I don't listen to myself.' Tony chuckled. They reached the driveway and began the, what seemed like endless, walk to the front door.' Y'know, I've come across many teenagers before…'

'You have?' Peter grinned.

'… Yeah. None of them can handle pain like you. I mean you managed to disguise this…' He gestured to Peter's chest. '… From the Avengers. If this was to happen to Clint, I bet you he would just breakdown crying and wait to be rescued like some damsel in distress.'

'Now I want to laugh.' Peter winced.

'Oh, sorry, Underoos.'

'It's OK.' They walked through the entrance of the compound and headed to the medical bay. They were a little late, Tony hoped Bruce would understand. When they walked, well Peter was more limping, through the double doors to the medical bay, they saw that Bruce was sitting waiting for them.

'Sorry we're a little late.'

'That's fine, let's see what we are dealing with.' Tony pulled back Peter's shirt to show Bruce. 'so, you thought it was OK to hide this from everyone?'

'I didn't want to be a problem.' Peter frowned, looking at his feet.

'Karen said he has four broken ribs and two cracked ones. He fell off a building onto a lamppost. _Two days ago_!' Tony informed Bruce.

'You must have the world's highest pain tolerance.' This earned Bruce a smile from Peter. 'I can't really do _that _much. IU can bandage it, make sure they heal in place. But it's just going to have to hurt like _hell _for a week or so. Mobility wise, you'll just have to walk rather slow. Sorry, Peter. Even with your advanced healing it'll take a while for you to fully get back to normal.' Bruce set about bandaging up Peter's waist while talking to father and son about what Peter could and could not do while his ribs were broken. 'OK, that's you.' Bruce said, stepping back to review his handy work. Peter pulled his suit back over his shoulders and pressed the spider.

'Let's get you upstairs, Underoos. Before you get another chance to injure yourself.' Tony chuckled.

'Stop making me laugh.' Peter punched his dad playfully.

'You should be lucky you're injured otherwise I would be tackling you right now.' Tony joked, causing Peter to raise an eyebrow.

'Would you now?'

'Hell yeah. Don't underestimate Iron Man.'

'Iron Man? That's funny I didn't see the suit.' Tony chuckled.

'Now you can't blame me for making you laugh because you're just as bad.'

'Sorry, can't help it.' Peter mumbled. Tony draped his arm over Peter's shoulder as they walked out the elevator and into Tony's Penthouse.

'Never be sorry for something that isn't your fault, Underoos. That's just too much pressure for a fifteen-year-old-kid.'

'But I _am _sorry. I'm just stupid. I didn't want to bother you. I didn't think you'd care.'

'You didn't think I'd care?' Tony shook his head in utter disbelief. 'Of _course, _I care. I'm your dad, isn't caring like the number one point on the job-description?'

'I guess?' Peter grimaced.

'You need to sleep.'

'Hell no! I'm not sleeping!'

'What?'

'I'm just not tired.'

'Where did the _hell no_ come from?'

'My mouth.' Peter winced.

'Oh, you _little_…'

'Language.' Peter sank down onto the couch, Tony joining him. 'I just, it's not comfortable to sleep with like ninety-nine broken ribs, y'know.'

'I really don't know.' Tony grinned. 'Movie.'

'_Of course_.'

'You pick.'

'Emmm… OK. Do you like, uh, I don't know, maybe Star Wars?'

'Great choice, Underoos.' Tony wrapped his arm around Peter, careful not to touch his fragile left side. 'You read my mind.'

'You know I didn't.' Tony chuckled.

'OK, that time you did. I'm happy to watch whatever you want to watch.' Peter smiled for the first time since Tony had flown over to find him about passed out on a Queens rooftop. The elevator doors pinged open and Clint ran out, followed by the rest of the Avengers.

'Movie night!' Clint screamed as he ran up and jumped down onto a couch. Steve just smiled apologetically at Tony as they all sat down to join the father son duo. 'What we watching, Star Wars? I guess Peter chose, Tony is _terrible _at picking the good films.' Clint joked. They all laughed, Peter loved his stupid family.


End file.
